


Disorder

by QueenEchidna



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 05:50:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10960995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenEchidna/pseuds/QueenEchidna
Summary: "There was no gunfire, no loud voices, nobody was there to judge or belittle him; just him and Zenyatta."Some Zen/Bastion hurt/comfort for all your anxious robot needs.





	Disorder

**Author's Note:**

> So there's not a lot of Bastion/Zenyatta in the fandom which is awful. So I wanted to contribute something but was feeling particularly uninspired so I went with the "robot PTSD" route. To go a more unique way I wrote it very much so from my own perspective and had Bastion's experience reflect how my own anxiety affects me, Zenyatta of course mimicking my friends and girlfriend who always known just what to say to help me when I need it most.  
> I'd love to write more with these two so if anyone has any ideas or prompts they'd like to share please feel free to do so in the comments! Hope you enjoy! <3

Evening was rolling in gently as the spring day progressed and the sun began creeping below the horizon throwing colors into the sky. Above the twisting hallways and boisterous voices piling into rooms that made up their base, sat a nursery under a plexiglass dome nearly overflowing with foliage of all sorts. The light streamed through the transparent ceiling and lit up the room in a mix of yellow and orange against the rainbow assortment of flowers below. Zenyatta cycled air through his vents; a deep breath to help his mind enjoy the moment and feel the calm energy around him. 

The luminescent blue veins and accents across his body shimmered in contrast to the other colors of the evening glow as the sun glinted off the shiniest parts of him and made him simply beam. 

Bastion chirped quietly from where he sat, he couldn't help but stare at the floating mech, momentarily distracted from the flowering hedge he was pruning. His eye focussed in closer with a small whirring sound, following the movements of those deft silver arms as Zenyatta felt and caressed the petals on a particularly impressive sunflower, the very one Bastion himself had been nurturing in hopes of impressing the other mech. 

His presence was intoxicating, and all of what Bastion knew of beauty came from spectating him and nature alike, adopting the tendencies and mimicking the simplicities to become more like that which he admired most. 

The flower reached high as it could grasping at the rays spilling in, the brown seeds made a perfect circle for the petals to surround. Zenyatta touched each part with nimble fingers, not harming the flower nor hardly swaying it; gentle as a butterfly's kiss. Bastion envied that fragile touch; something he'd had yet to master. 

It was such a calming thing, looking at Zenyatta, feeling his aura like no one else could; it was the most wonderful sensation imaginable, it envelopes him in golden warmth and cures the mind of torment. He was always there, reaching out to Bastion when he needed him, treating him with unwavering kindness and love unlike their teammate's initial interactions. Like a warm summer day he made everything seem okay. 

Bastion felt his core fluctuate happily and an accidental, soft, lingering beep found its way out. It was embarrassing and he rousted to a flurry of movement to cover up his lapse of self-awareness; he spun his torso to one side and fumbled for anything that could excuse his intrusion, although in doing so his oversized shoulders knocked an empty pot of dirt off the table next to him and it smashed to the floor. 

In his flustered action, he also accidentally snapped off a branch of the shrub he'd been tending. This drew his attention back and he was sad he'd made such a mistake. A clumsy oaf like everyone says, just a destructive Omnic... just as designed. 

Retrieving the broken branch, Bastion let out a quiet, sad hum, looking to-and-from the broken piece to the noticeable hole in the hedge and continued to beep rapidly and angrily at himself, tightening his grip on the broken plant piece. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

Looking back, like always, it seemed as if the worry washed away as he locked gazes with Zenyatta, the golden light shining from behind him only accentuated the immaculate way Bastion always viewed him. "Do not fret, like most of its kind, it will re-grow." Zenyatta explained gently, taking the branch and setting it aside before guiding the other mech's hands to replace the plant in its spot. He prompted Bastion to his feet and gently ran his hand down the side of Bastion's face, calming him, "All is at forgiven." 

For a while they stood there like that, Zenyatta making light contact in some way, staying close, humming quietly and whispering gentle reminders when Bastion became unsettled, to let him know everything was at peace. At some point he leaned forward just the slightest to touch his forehead to Bastion's, and again the boxy mech chirped and shuddered happily at the intimate encounter. 

Moments like this could last forever, Bastion hoped, he always wanted the other mech to be closer, to stay with him, even if he was big and clumsy and destructive, Zenyatta didn't pay that any mind and treated him with compassion. Everything hurt all the time, and his mind raced, constantly bombarding him with the cold facts: where he came from, what he did and was designed to do, and how he could never be at peace. 

But when he was with Zenyatta... 

Bastion focused his eye on the other mech, looking him over, almost hypnotized staring at the luminescent blue circles amongst the honey colored backdrop. He let out a few beeps, quietly, too full of fear to speak out, brain too busy fending off the demons to articulate his more eloquent thoughts. His mind is a loud place where Bastion gets lost, unable to differentiate the real from the fictitious exaggerations of the past. At least that's how it normally is. 

When he's with Zenyatta, everything is quiet. 

For those few sacred moments, he isn't worried about who or what he is, he feels the world moving around him, undeterred, unaltered by his presence. And he isn't afraid to just be. 

Zenyatta shifted just slightly, and Bastion was worried he'd move away so he reached out to gently grab his pant leg. It was unneeded however as Zenyatta merely used both hands to cradle the other mech's head and lock gazes with him again. "As always you have much inner torment." He spoke softly, not accusingly; Bastion could listen to his voice all day. "You worry so much." His tone sounded sad, and confused, not the normal tone he carried with him 

To think his anxieties were so apparent only served to make him self conscious, and he drew back into himself, tempted to pull away so he wouldn't cause any worry. He knew such an action would be protested so he remained still, listening to his and Zenyatta's cores beat in-sync. 

If there were a remedy to his internal exhaustions he would gladly fix them, and make himself worth the time and energy those he loved wasted on him. He couldn't shake the feeling of being less-than-enough, every time he saw the fear and hesitation in his teammate's behavior didn't help. He worried for a reason; he knew he'd never be accepted, and he understood why. 

The other members' fears and trepidation came from experience, hurt, and pain; they didn't judge him for some shallow, meaningless basis- their rationale was to be expected. Bastion knew what he did, what his kind did, how many people they hurt, _killed_ \- he hated thinking about it- his cooling fans whirled to life as his core heated up from the sorrowful anger he was causing himself. Many beeps and whines came out before he could control his vocalizer, his chasis shuddered. 

He isn't daft, he understands, _they hate him_ because he's a _monster_. 

"You are loved." Zenyatta spoke, soft as a church mouse in the large greenhouse, but voice still as sweet as the spring air and gentle as a dove. 

Suddenly, just as it creeped in, the darkness in his mind was washed away and he was aware of the golden glow around him and the stillness of the world; the breeze drifting through the open door moved the plants to make tiny rustling noises as the birds chirped in the distance. There was no gunfire, no loud voices, nobody was there to judge or belittle him; just him and Zenyatta. What the other mech said began to sink in as he felt himself coming back to normal, the clouds rolling out as his anxiety calmed with Zenyatta's nurturing touch. 

The words felt like a weight lifted from Bastion's shoulders, validation of what he yearned for from the very person whose affection he sought after the most. He whined a couple times, small beeps and chirps, as if he was sobbing, he couldn't control his voice box as he welled up with emotion. 

" _Shhh_ …" Zenyatta cooed, cradling the mech's head and gently gliding his fingers over the stressed metal until his shaking stilled. "Everything is alright." 

What ailed Bastion was not something that could be fixed as easily as he wished, that much he understood; it wasn't something that could be wished away, nor was it something that would be easily defeated. However, he knew he could do it, with help. He looked back up at his companion, the light still shining over him, illuminating him like a beacon of hope and love, and his chest filled with the kind of happiness he only felt when with Zenyatta, like nothing could hurt him, like everything would be okay. He idly mulled the word _love_ over, reciting it and its definition, deciding then that he very very much loved Zenyatta. 

The words spoken reverberated in his thoughts; _You are loved._

_You are loved._


End file.
